


Interlude Over Sashimi (Supernatural)

by SingingFlames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is grumpy, Conversations, Fluff, Gen, Headcanon, I'm using that tag from now on, Looking for Lucifer, Road Trips, Season/Series 12, Sushi, These Two Need More Screen Time, take out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10087433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingFlames/pseuds/SingingFlames
Summary: During their hunt for Lucifer, Castiel and Crowley converse about their situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 1100+  
> Warnings: None  
> A/N: One of the many conversations I see characters having in my head, with a bit of a headcanon thrown in. This is for a couple challenges: the Fandom Writing Challenge with the prompt “take out” and Crowstiel (eh, it didn’t come out as Crowstiel as I wanted); and the Castiel Color Challenge with the prompt Celadon Green.

“There,” Crowley said, pointing towards a building. “Pull in there.”

“Is this a new lead on Lucifer?” Castiel asked as he eased the old pickup into the parking lot.

“What? No. I rather think if the devil were here, there’d be more police cars. Ambulances.” Crowley cocked his head to the side. “Hearses.”

Castiel parked, eyeing the indicated building. Flanking either side of the entrance, two large statues - Imperial guardian lions - stood sentinel. A glowing sign, emblazoned with Chinese characters and a stylized serpent, proclaimed the establishment to be ‘The Green Dragon’. He could see tables lined up in neat rows inside, patrons occupying several of them. “Then why are we here?”

“I’m peckish.”

Castiel turned and glared. “You don’t need to eat.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t take pleasure in it, does it?” Crowley raised a brow. He clasped the door handle but didn’t open it. “Decent entrees, here, but I happen to know this place has the best sushi in the city. Let’s have us a bite.”

“I don’t need to eat,” Castiel said, exasperation coloring his voice.

“Your loss.”

“Crowley, we don’t have time for this!” Castiel waved a hand at the restaurant. “We need to keep moving. Find our next lead.”

“And where are we off to, yeah? How many leads do we have right now?” The demon tapped his chin in thought. “Oh, that’s right. None! So tell me, where’s the advantage of driving around, Helen Keller-like, when we have nowhere to be?”

Castiel tightened his grip on the wheel, eyes fixed on the parking lot.

“Fine,” Crowley said with a sigh. “We’ll get take out.”

“I. Don’t. Eat.”

“I’ll get take out. Whatever.” Crowley shook his head. “ _Ciao_.”

“Chow? What do-?” Castiel bit off the comment. He was alone.

This was idiotic. Lucifer was free, doing not-even-Heaven knew what, and he was stuck sitting in a pickup, waiting for a demon to buy raw fish for unnecessary consumption.

As the minutes ticked by, Castiel contemplated the street. He could - should - leave. This was pointless. There was no reason to sit here, wasting time. Lucifer was out there, free, causing unknown amounts of pain and suffering. Castiel couldn’t sit still, doing nothing.

But where to go? As much as he hated to admit it, Crowley had a point: they had no leads. Castiel’s eyes followed the lazy flow of traffic, as if the answer would simply present itself, perhaps as a flood of emergency vehicles, racing off to Lucifer’s current location. But the cars and other vehicles continued their unhurried pace.

He tapped his knuckles against the steering wheel, jaw tight.

“Miss me, darling?” Crowley’s purr interrupted his thoughts. Castiel spared him a glance.The demon had reappeared in his seat, a cellophane wrapped plate on his lap.

“What took so long?”

“It was eleven minutes. Impatient, aren’t we?” Crowley peeled back the plastic on his dish.

“Every minute we stay, is another minute Lucifer gets farther away.”

“Or closer.” At the angel’s confused look, Crowley continued, “We don’t know where he is or going. Just as likely he’s coming our way as not.”

Crowley unwrapped a pair of chopsticks. With deft movements, he grabbed a small piece of fish - not adorned with rice or seaweed as Castiel had been expecting - and placed it in his mouth. He chewed with slow, deliberate motions, a pleased sigh escaping his lips.

Castiel grit his teeth. “Must you waste time on raw fish?”

“Sashimi. And it’s delicious. Hardly a waste.” The demon plopped another piece in his mouth. “Find anything?”

“There’s nothing to find out here.”

Crowley raised his brows. “Your phone? Research? Leads?”

“Oh.” Castiel shook his head. He… hadn’t thought to do that. Technology was not his forte. But after all his admonitions over wasting time, he didn’t feel like sharing that. “I have no news.”

Crowley scratched his beard. “So, no leads, but at least I can enjoy a bit of The Green Dragon’s finest.”

Castiel grimaced. Why must the demon remain so interested in trivialities, like food? This place? As if there weren’t literally existence-ending dangers lurking, always on the verge of destroying them and this tiny world. Yet here was Crowley eating fish and praising human restaurants. Castiel’s gaze landed on the establishment’s sign and it’s colored lettering. He shook his head.

“It’s not even a real green.”

“Sure it is. It’s celadon,” Crowley countered. Glancing from the corner of his eyes, he placed another sashimi in his mouth. “What’s crawled up your petticoats? You’re more grumpy than usual today.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right. Of course you are. You’re known for nitpicking colors. My mistake.” Crowley waved his hand dismissively.

Castiel sighed. “I am fine. I just want - no, need - to find Lucifer. Keep him from hurting others.”

“And that’s, what, your responsibility, is it?”

Castiel looked away. “I let him out. Everything he did, does, and will do, is on me. He is killing people. That is my fault.”

“People that’d be dead anyway, or worse, had Amara had her way, yeah? We needed him and you made the choice.”

“Did we really need him? In the end, did he help? Or just cause pain? Everything he did - everything I did - that’s on me.”

Crowley watched him, absently rubbing the chopsticks between his fingers. “You know why some of us demons call him ‘father’? True, he made us and all, but the main reason? He taught us most of the things we know. And we know pain. Torment.” His gaze bored in on Castiel. “We live on it. And if we leave a meatsuit alive, more times than not, we leave them hurting. We’re in their heads. We know what they love. We make them kill it. Destroy what they cherish. Just to leave them stewing with those memories, with that guilt.” He paused. “I know possession, love. And I know how we leave our former meat. Who do you think taught us that?” Castiel’s eyes slipped aside. Crowley continued, “You may have given him the wheel, but he’s the one who drove.”

The angel stared across the parking lot. He opened his mouth, paused, then asked, “Are you mad at me, for what he did to you?”

Crowley sat still for several moments, his only movement the steady tap of chopsticks against the plate. He shrugged. “I was. But now? I am no more mad at you than I am at your shoes. He wore you both.”

They sat in silence, Castiel gazing through the windshield at nothing, Crowley finishing off his last piece of sushi.

“We should go,” Castiel said, voice quiet, mulling over Crowley’s words.

“Of course. That was the whole point of the take out, after all. Eat on the road, and all that.” Crowley held up the empty plate and shook it slightly. “Since we didn’t have time to eat here.”

“Shut up.”


End file.
